


City Sounds

by 360loverpenguin



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: New York can be a loud place, Race loves his brothers, Storms, city sounds, not specifically movie or musical, the newsies are the best family, up to you which you imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23541505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/360loverpenguin/pseuds/360loverpenguin
Summary: A strike of thunder shot through the sky, the sound echoing over and over agin in Race’s ears as he shot up in bed, and wisps of sleep falling away in an instant. His heart rate quickened as another crash shook the lodgehouse, a vibrant flash of lighting bathing the room in a piercing white light not long after.Race found his breath coming in short spurts, none of the shallow breaths filling his lungs as he sat there, glancing anxiously around the room for any of the other boys who might still be awake, the once comforting darkness of the room becoming all too suffocating in contrast to the lightning as it closed in on him.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	City Sounds

**Author's Note:**

> So it was storming outside, and I couldn't help but wonder how the newsies would react in a storm. Writing these boys is honestly so fun, they have each others backs. Enjoy!!

Race rested back against the thin mattress of his bunk, a tired sigh escaping his lips as he finally shut his eyes. He moved the worn blanket closer around his shoulders, finally ready to sleep after hours of walking around New York.

The lodge house was relatively quiet; or as close as it ever truly got with all the boys staying there, midnight long fallen out of reach. The room was scarcely lit, a few shards of moonlight breaking through the window the only thing keeping the room from complete darkness. Not that any of them particularly minded, it was relaxing after the countless hours spent in the blazing sun.

The sounds of the city poured in through an opened window, one Jack was supposed to close before he had went to the rooftop for the night. There was the sound of a few men laughing from the streets down below, a few slamming doors, and some horses passing by that Race couldn't fathom why they could possibly be out this late. Honestly, did this city ever rest?

Not that these noises ever bothered Race much more than a passing thought. After all, growing up in New York City had desensitized him to the city’s restlessness, and he wasn't sure he'd find himself able to sleep in the dead silence anyway. There was one sound, however, that Race could not overlook no matter how hard he had tried.

A strike of thunder shot through the sky, the sound echoing over and over agin in Race’s ears as he shot up in bed, all wisps of sleep falling away in an instant. His heart rate quickened as another crash shook the lodgehouse, a vibrant flash of lighting bathing the room in a piercing white light not long after.

Race found his breath coming in short spurts, none of the shallow breaths filling his lungs as he sat there, glancing anxiously around the room for any of the other boys who might still be awake, the once comforting darkness of the room becoming all too suffocating in contrast to the lightning as it closed in on him.

Race shut his eyes, begging fro the storm to be over, though he knew it impossible, as he tried his best to control his ragged breathing, moving his knees up to his chest as he did so. Not a few seconds later, however, the lighting struck again, the shrill blinding light penetrating his eyelids as it did so, causing them to fly open again.

He felt his dry eyes burning. He wouldn't let himself cry over this. After all, he’d faced far worse, hadn't he? He bit his lip, looking around the familiar room that looked so foreign to him at the moment with increasing desperation as he heard the rain hammering against the roof, sounding as though it would burst through the ceiling at any moment, destroying all sounds but the roaring thunder.

Race’s eyes finally locked onto some other movement in the room, Specs reaching for his glasses discarded next to his bed with a shaky hand, pulling himself to a sitting position, mirroring Race from across the room. As Specs opened his mouth to say something, another strike rattled the building, much harsher than before, causing him to jump back slightly, any words dying in his throat.

Race moved forward in his bunk slightly, desperate for some movement, anything that would take his mind off the storm crashing against Manhattan at that moment.  
He glanced over to the bed next to him, seeing Albert tossing and turning underneath his torn blanket, clearly awake just as the others, try as he might to fight that. Race swallowed slightly as he spoke, willing his voice to remain stable, “Al, you awake?” he whispered quickly, not wanting to wake the others no matter how much better that may feel.

He could see the outline of a figure nodding as Albert rolled to face Race’s bunk, the blankets wrapped tightly around him as he did so. Race managed to let out a shaky breath at that, though it seemingly did nothing to slow his pounding heart as the storm continued. At least he wasn't the only one with this fear, if Specs, Albert, and a few other stirring newsies were anything to prove.

“I hate storms.” Came Specs’ voice from across the room, muffled slightly by the pillow he was now holding in his lap. Race just nodded in agreement, unsure if the other could even see him. He kept his eyes downcast, fiddling with some stray threads on the edge of his blanket, trying to focus his mind away from the sounds beating against the walls of the now too small room.

A loud bang sounded from the far side of the room just then as the window was thrown open, the sound causing Race to jump, his heart all but tearing out his chest as a figure appeared just beyond the open window, lighting flashing and illuminating the space behind them menacingly.

Race had to stop himself from screaming as he gripped onto his blanket with a force that made his knuckles turn white, his chest heaving as it becomes desperate for breath. He barely registered Albert shooting up to mimic his position from earlier as he found himself unable to pry his eyes away from the window.

Though Race should've guessed it was him, he couldn't deny the brief rush of relief Jack coming in from the window brought him, Crutchie coming in not a second later, both soaked from the barrels of rain as they shivered standing near the edge of the room. Race loosened his grip on the worn fabric as he let out a nervous laugh, a whisper of what it normally was, causing Jack to glance up at him as he took his soaked hat off.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Jack whispered, more concern than annoyance leeching into his tone as he moved his gaze from Race to the other boys sitting up this late into the night. Race only managed to swallow hard, flicking his gaze back down to his hands as he shook his head, offering Jack no real response.

Albert spoke up, his voice much louder than the others’ had been, but wavering tone present anyway. “Couldn’t.” he responded simply, urging Jack to nod in response as he and Crutchie walked over to the bathroom to dry themselves off a bit.

Any other time, Race would probably have made a comment about this being payback for Jack sleeping outside, but all jokes flew from his mind as the lightning cast hard shadows in the room once more.

“It won’t last forever, guys.” Jack said, his voice even in tone as he offered them a tight lipped smile, doing what little he could to ease the fears he knew the others had as he and Crutchie stepped out of sight into the other room.

Race took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut once more as he focused on slowing his harsh breaths back to some semblance of normal as he began humming softly. Though he had no clue why, humming had always sort of calmed him down, bringing his mind to focus on the familiar tune rather than whatever sound rang harshly through the night. It was some old tune they had heard at medda’s, he recalled, feeling his hands calm from their shaking, though he supposed he also owed that in part to the softening stampede of rain next to the ever flashing lightning.

A few beats into the song, Race cracked his eyes open when he heard Specs’ voice echo softly from the bunk set across from his. “High times, hard times…” he began, voice only wavering on the last note of the line.

Albert joined in as well, leaning back against the wall his bed was shoved against as he sang the next line, “Sometimes the livin’ is sweet.” he whispered in tune to the line of the song Race had stopped humming.

“And sometimes there’s nothing to eat.” Race added, a small smile cracking through the frown he had worn for the past twenty minutes. He dug out a match from the pack in his pocket, striking it once against the rough frame of his bed before being met with a warm flame, one he used to light a candle placed on the table just to the side of him. The flickering warmth of the controlled light offering a welcome calm as it cut through some of the dark shadows in the room.

They all voiced the final line of the song, more structured in a harsh whisper than singing, for fear of waking the others. “But I always lands on my feet.” they finished, Race’s heart slowing slightly from the pounding before as their voices chorused together for a beat, blowing out the match as the finished.

Jack stepped back into the room then, drawing the newsies’ attention to him much more calmly than he had when he first came in. He and Crutchie made their way over to an empty bunk in the far corner of the room, preparing to spend the night in the shelter of the room rather than under the cloud of the storm.

As Jack began to throw two spare blankets onto the bed, he glanced over to meet Race’s desperate eyes, silently asking not to be left alone through the broken candle light. Jack grabbed one of the blankets back off the old mattress, exchanging good nights with Crutchie as he made his way over to Race’s bunk, stepping quietly to avoid waking up the other newsies.

Jack climbed into the bunk with Race, it shifting slightly as he did so. Race finally released the breath he had been holding for far too long, the panicked feeling in his stomach fading as he finally lowered himself back down into a lying position.

He shut his eyes, the roaring of the storm seeming much less overwhelming than it had before. Though Race might not show it as often as he could, he loved his family. Wouldn’t be who he was without them. “Hey Jack? Thank you.” Race whispered, barely hearing himself from how quiet it was.

He received a tired grunt in return, but it was enough to allow Race to finally allow sleep to overcome him, a soft smile dancing on the edges of his mouth as he pulled the blanket close around him.  
——

Race’s eyes cracked open, the early rays of dawn greeting him roughly as he did so. He rubbed his hand across his eyes, feeling Jack groan from behind him at the movement. His vision finally coming into focus, Race was facing the freshly burnt out candle from the night before, topped by a trail of smoke curling up into the early morning air of the lodgehouse until it disappeared.

Laying there in the sky’s soft light, Race couldn't help but smile, despite the lack of sleep from the night before. It wasn't often the newsies talked about nights like those, but he knew they meant as much to him as they did his brothers.


End file.
